


And order unkind

by Shae_la_Hyene



Series: Soulmate AU [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I loved my soulmate AU so I decided to end it properly, Laurent POV, M/M, and I didn't cry, so here it is, which I am proud of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shae_la_Hyene/pseuds/Shae_la_Hyene
Summary: Following Fate has been cruelAs soon as Laurent is free of movement when his uncle leaves, his first action is to punish Damianos, the man who killed his brother. But as he should have stopped the whipping, he couldn't, and now Damen is dead, bringing down with him the future they could have had together.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Series: Soulmate AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952692
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	And order unkind

Laurent spent the next two days between drinking, not sleeping, and being scolded publicly by his uncle for being disrespectful toward the akielon’s gift.  
Those were great two days.  
He had been sick, too. Throwing up most of the wine he drank, which was probably best.  
His stomach was revolted at the mere thought of the intimate betrayal of fate, of a life where Damianos’ bloodstained hands would have touched him. Where Laurent would have let him. Of the lifelong love he was meant to have, perverted and ruined with everything else in his life, that day in Marlas.  
He wanted to scream that it was unfair. He would have, if he didn’t learn long ago that life wasn’t fair. Maybe there was just a sliver of hope left in him, that he’d meet his soulmate one day and start over, and be loved without condition, and be happy.  
And that hope had died.  
It fucking hurt. He was furious.  
He was still furious when he was told Damianos wished to talk to him. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone…  
Since the last time he saw the man, the blood on his face had been wiped out, and the bruises and cuts were showing the first signs of healing. Laurent wanted badly to reopen all those wounds, and create new ones.  
But it wouldn’t change the fact that Damianos’ words were staining his skin.  
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Damianos said slowly, carefully.  
“You’d better go to the point or you won’t see me for long. Believe it or not, I do have a busy schedule, and answering to a pathetic could-have-been-king is not my favorite acitivity.”  
The akielon winced at the mockery. Laurent had hit home, and it almost made him smirk.  
Damianos closed his eyes a moment, calming his breath.  
“I… understand you don’t want me there. So just let me go. I’ll go back to Akielos and stop being a problem for you to deal with. Why would you keep me here when you clearly hate me ?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.  
Laurent snorted.  
“Well that would be a problem. See, I do really enjoy the idea of getting the chance to beat my brother’s murderer every day for the rest of his life. Having you under my thumb just make it a lot easier.”  
Damianos looked hurt at that.  
“Is that… all you plan to do, forever, punish me forever ? I… it wasn’t a murder. We went on that battlefield as equals. If he had won and I was killed, would you have punished him all his life for killing your soulmate ?”  
Laurent shrugged, feeling too uncomfortable.  
“Auguste was my soulmate. You, you are just a mistake of fate. Whatever life we were supposed to share died when you killed my brother. If you’re foolish enough to believe I could ever forgive you, it’s no wonder the bastard ended up on your throne.”  
Damianos looked more hurt, and more angry. Swiftly, as Laurent was turning away to leave, he took hold of Laurent’s ankle.  
“Laurent, please,” the akielon said. “Listen to me…”  
Pulling his leg hard against the grip, Laurent freed himself and kicked the man in the ribs for good measure, eliciting a sweet groan of pain.  
“It’s Your Highness for you,” Laurent said between his teeth, and left. 

Laurent had to wait a whole week for his opportunity. One long week of faking boredom and of pretending to ignore the massive problem sleeping next to his own bedroom. One week of keeping his teeth clenched and his anger in.  
One week until finally, his uncle left Arles for long enough to let him do whatever he wanted with his kindly offered bed slave.  
He had ideas, days and days of coming up with creative ways to make him suffer, of hurting Damianos just as much as he had hurt him.  
In the end, no creative way would feel less satisfying than to see the man wiped to the pulp, broken on the post. That was a very vivid daydream that kept coming back to Laurent’s mind. A very attractive vision.  
So he did just that. As soon as his uncle was far enough, Laurent had the slave dragged, still in chains, to the sawdust of his personal training area. The wooden post in the middle of it drew a very pretty picture as soon as the akielon was tied to it firmly.  
“Laur... Your Highness,” Damianos growled, forcing the title out of his mouth. “Don’t do that, you’ll regret it.”  
Laurent snorted.  
“I’m pretty sure I won’t,” he said simply. “Go on,” he added, gesturing to the soldier holding the whip.  
He foolishly wanted to hear the akielon moan in pain, maybe cry and beg. Even a whimper. But the man was stubborn and no sound escaped his mouth.  
Not for the first ten lashes.  
Still, Laurent watched, delighted, as the fight and fury behind Damianos’ eyes was finally broken down, a few dozen later. His eyes closed, his head dropped, defeated.  
Laurent had won.  
“More,” he ordered.  
Damianos still bored it in silence, not giving Laurent the satisfaction of making him scream in pain.  
Finally, after even Laurent had stopped counting the lashes, he heard his brother’s killer’s quiet, broken voice, whispering.  
“Please, Laurent…”  
Damianos raised his head, and looked straight at Laurent’s in a silent plea he wouldn’t say out loud.  
I’m your soulmate.  
Laurent heard it even as it was unsaid. It didn’t matter.  
“More,” he said again, his voice firm and detached.  
The soldier hesitated, but an icy stare from his prince shut him up. The whip fell again.  
The slumped form of Damianos fell even more against the post, as if nothing was keeping him up anymore, and Laurent saw a single tear run down his face.  
Triumph filled his chest. It wouldn’t be the victory he had thought to get, at the edge of a sword, but it was a victory nonetheless. He had broken down his brother’s killer completely. He had won, avenged his brother.  
He didn’t order the whipping to stop.  
So the soldier went on, even as Damianos was too lost to even feel the pain anymore, and even as he fell unconscious.  
Laurent didn’t stop it. He couldn’t. He had to see it through to its end, whatever it would be. He needed more, it was not enough. The akielon has not suffered enough, not as much as Laurent himself had suffered because of him.  
He felt it, when Damen’s heart finally gave up, like a punch in his chest.  
And then came the memories.  
He vaguely registered himself screaming and falling to his knees when the realization of Damen’s death hit him.  
He remembered, the times Damen saved his life, and Laurent fighting his growing feelings. Their first kiss, on the battlements of the fort they won together, the place of Laurent’s first victory. Thanks to Damen.  
He remembered the night after that, how scared he had been, and how tender and patient Damen was with him. How he saw sex differently after that. 

On his knees in the sawdust, crawling toward Damen’s body to untie it from the post, he craved Damen’s lips on his own.

He remembered Damen’s smile in his sleep as Laurent had whispered ‘I love you’ next to him. Remembered how insecure Damen had looked when he woke up to see Laurent here, how he wasn’t sure he deserved Laurent’s love, and his vow to himself to prove him he was every day of his life.  
He remembered slowly forgiving Damen for Auguste’s death, as slowly as he had to admit that it was no murder, and that fate wasn’t in their hands but in those of most cruel men. He remembered every second of hating himself for it, for forgiving, for letting his brother down, for falling in love. And how he slowly forgave himself for it too.  
He remembered Ios, and how foolish Damen came to his rescue bearing nothing more than a love declaration, but somehow still managed to save Laurent once again.  
How Damen had fell silent, watching him, right after he agreed to join their kingdoms. How happy he himself had felt then…  
He remembered the complicated months after that, Damen’s recovery, their separations, the beginning of the compromises that were so hard for them, all to make the future a little brighter. The arguments, and how they were still tender with each other after them, just to reassure the other they were still in love.  
He remembered each time Damen took him apart in bed, the passion of the first years slowly calming down into tender intimacy. When, even after years of having Damen’s love, he still felt full and happier than ever just from walking hand in hand with him.

Damen’s weight fell on him as soon as the bounds were untied, Laurent holding him and slowly lowering him to the ground.  
“No, Damen, please, come back…”  
He touched Damen’s face, it was soft under his touch, even as Laurent’s hands were spreading blood on it. Far gone was the pain that was last written on his features.  
“I’m so sorry…”

He remembered the pure bliss of seeing the happiness on Damen’s face after Laurent asked him to marry him. And the happiness of that day where they finally tied themself together for the rest of their lives.  
The responsibility Laurent felt whenever he realized how Damen needed someone to love him unconditionally. Years on end of laughing between silk sheets. Damen’s hands roaming over his body for hours on end.  
How it took years but Damen finally convinced him to grow his hair longer, worth it for the enthranced look on his husband’s face when he was combing his fingers through it.  
He remembered nights out of time running on roofs and catching spies, and how Laurent ended it after he thought he had lost Damen to one of those silly games. The incomparable fear from that night.  
He remembered growing older, and the insecure fear of not being pretty enough to have Damen’s love one day. How Damen had laughed when he confessed it, and reassured him.  
He remembered Damen’s kisses, how he always craved them, and the grounding weight of Damen’s body on him. Damen holding him in his arms after nightmares.  
He remembered having the love of his life by his side.  
And then he remembered the expression on Damen’s face because he knew it was his soulmate that did that to him. Hurt him. Slowly killing him.  
The man who was to be king, dead on the post as a traitor, in the garb of a slave. Far, too far from home, and feeling so alone and lost and hopeless.  
Laurent did that to him. And until the last moments, Damen was painfully aware of that fact.  
That the one person that was supposed to love him wanted him to suffer and die like a dog. That his brother brought him down, that his past lover put him in chains.  
That the only person he believed would love him… didn’t.  
A lifetime of happiness and love, that had not been made impossible because Damen killed Auguste. Only because Laurent wouldn’t believe in them, and killed Damen, destroying their future before it even happened.  
Laurent had done that.

“Please, I’m so sorry, please wake up…”  
Laurent’s fingers were tangling in Damen’s soft curls now, but Damen wasn’t waking up.  
“I love you, I’m so sorry…”

He remembered waking up to see Damen motionless in the bed next to him, and shaking him only to realize his husband was dead.  
The pain that peaceful death brought to Laurent was nothing compared to the one he brought to himself now.  
He had killed, knowingly, his soulmate, his other half. The love of his life. 

“Laurent,” came Jord’s voice, barely breathed out.  
Laurent looked around him. The soldier he had ordered to kill Damen had ran off, probably scared by Laurent’s screams. And now Jord was there, looking scared and worried. He should have worried more for Damen, before it was too late. He should have prevented that. And now it was too late…  
“I killed him,” whispered Laurent, and he didn’t recognize his own voice around the tears and the knot in his throat.  
Jord swallowed, visibly trying to choose his words carefully.  
“I know,” he said slowly. “It’s alright, we’re going to figure something out together.”  
“No !” screamed Laurent, and he sounded like a child even to his own ears. “I don’t want to. I don’t deserve… I killed him, don’t you understand ?”  
Jord lowered his gaze to the floor, trying to hide his pity.  
“I think I do…”  
“I love him ! And I did this. To him. I hurt him, I made him believe he was alone, and then I killed him !”  
Jord nodded.  
“I know, but there’s no going back now, and you need to think of what we’re going to do now.”  
Laurent let out an hysterical laugh.  
“I won’t make it without him,” he realized.  
Damen had saved him so many times. Without Damen on his side, Laurent stood no chance against his uncle. He would be dead, probably in a very ugly way, by the end of the week.  
Damen looked so tired in death, even more than when he was still alive. He had deserved so much more than what he had been given. A soulmate that loved him and didn’t hurt him. A loving family he never truly had. A decent death, like the one he gave Auguste…  
“You will, I promise,” Jord was rambling, but Laurent wasn’t listening anymore. “I will protect you...”  
Laurent looked at Damen’s face again, holding his body against him, like a mother would craddle a child.  
He closed his eyes and tried to keep in mind Damen’s face when he said he would marry him, and forced his tears to stop.  
Gently, he kissed Damen’s temple.  
“Forgive me,” he whispered even as he knew he couldn’t be heard.  
He heard Jord’s shout, too slow to stop him as he drew his hidden dagger.  
In one swift movement, born from years of holding that hilt in practice, Laurent plunged the blade in his chest, right on the heart that had stopped beating alongside Damen’s.  
The pain barely registered, as well as Jord’s hands on him.  
All he saw was Damen, looking soft and almost like he was asleep.  
Then he closed his eyes.


End file.
